Helter Skelter
by Saerry Snape
Summary: On the first day of his 7th year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter vanished. Now, 4 years later, he has been returned...but he's not the same Harry. A lone Hermione must find a way to bring back her lost friend with only the help of a convicted murderer.
1. awakening, part 1

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie._**  
**_

_**Chapter 1: Awakening, Part 1**_

_The more the light shines through me,_  
_I pretend to close my eyes._  
_The more the dark consumes me,_  
_I pretend I'm burning, burning bright._

_There's nothing ever wrong but nothing's ever right;_  
_Such a cruel contradiction._  
_I know I cross the lines its not easy to define;_  
_I'm born to indecision._  
_There's always something new some path I'm supposed to choose,_  
_With no particular rhyme or reason._

"Harry, come back! _Harry!_"

I can hear a voice calling me. Come back, it says.

Come back?

But I haven't gone anywhere. I'm here. I'M HERE!

"_Harry!_"

Still calling. Calling my name.

She sounds so sad, so distraught. Is it my fault? It must be.

She's calling my name.

Why?

I don't want to go. It's nice here. Bright. Calm. Cool.

Better than there. There - where _she_ is.

There's it's dark. It's all around me and everywhere pressing in and in and make it stop make it stop.

No no it's getting in it's getting...STOP IT!

STOP CALLING ME!

"_**HARRY!**_"

Just let me stay here in the light! I don't want to go...not back to the dark, not...

No, no, no go back!

No dark no dark no dark dark is pain pain pain and hurts hurts like Crucio like dying must and I don't wanna go back there but she keeps she keeps calling and calling and I can't help but go back don't wanna.

Stop it, STOP IT!

Leave me alone...

The dark the dark! All the light's going away, the precious precious light. Make it stop! I don't want to go don't want to go back there!

"Harry, please, come back," she whispers now.

Loud voice overpowering everything, pulling me back. No no no don't want to go stop it stop it stop pulling me stop calling me stop STOP.

It hurts.

Emerald eyes flew open and Harry screamed, his body writhing on a hospital wing bed, straps about his wrists and ankles preventing him from leaving it. His scream echoed through the castle in a shrill cacophony, the sound of it making the inhabitants cringe and wonder what that was.

It wasn't a human scream.

It was high and low all at once, a shriek and a bellow wrapped into one. Animalistic rage and fear and sadness weaved into it and made it less than human but more all at the same time.

It ended as abruptly as it began.

Harry lay, panting, on the bed, sweat soaking into his clothes, into the sheets, into everything. His eyes stared at the ceiling, not blinking, not moving, not twitching. Then he turned.

He looked at the one who'd been calling him, who'd pulled him back into the dark. He hurt because of her. He suffered because of her. He continued to lose himself to the thing inside him - the demon, the beast, the monster - because of her.

_Her._

Damn her.

Hermione.

Damn her.


	2. awakening, part 2

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie.**  
**

**Chapter 2: Awakening, Part 2**

_Oh God…_

The vomit in the porcelain bowl of the toilet seemed to smirk at her in harsh triumph and Hermione snarled viciously, lashing out at the lever that would send it rushing away. She watched it go with a smirk then sighed, leaning her elbows on the edge of the bowl and dropping her head into her hands.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered in a frightened little voice. Her eyes quickly closed in response to the pain that followed that confession.

She truly did not know what to do with herself or the new situation she had been dropped into unceremoniously. It had been barely three years since her graduation from Hogwarts but she had not set foot outside the school grounds since that day. Muggleborn's and Halfblood's had been Voldemort's targets since the beginning of her seventh year and after her parents murder on graduation day it had been deemed too dangerous for her – and anyone like her – to leave the protection of Hogwarts.

Few of the graduating students had listened and she had to count her murdered classmates on both hands and two toes…no, three now with Seamus Finnegan's murder two weeks ago.

Moral in the wizarding world had reached an all time low and many had given up, determining that Voldemort would control England in a matter of months. She had begun to give in as well until that day two months ago.

The day that the boy who had been one of her best friend's had been abruptly thrust back into her life.

Harry had been returned nearly four years after his disappearance hours after their arrival in Hogwarts for their seventh year…but he wasn't the Harry she remembered.

He was…_different_.

They had been forced to constrain him the second day when he had viciously attacked and killed a house-elf. A magical barrier had been cast around him the next day when he killed two more – entirely without a wand.

Since then he had been a snarling, animalistic heap on the constraining bed – a beast trapped in a man's body.

It broke her heart to look at the man that her best friend had become and see nothing but an animal staring at her out of those beautiful emerald eyes. Eyes that she could only hope one day would look on her again with friendly love and care.

And maybe more if she believed Ron. She hadn't spoken to him since they'd broken up a year after graduation – and not for want of trying. They had both tried so hard to make the relationship work but had failed miserably. She had been determined to keep up the search for Harry that the Ministry had abandoned after their graduation…he had just wanted to forget and move on with his life.

When he had accused her of loving Harry more than him, she'd slapped him. After that things hadn't been the same.

And she still didn't know how to choose between the two.

Ron she had fallen in love with sometime during their third year – why she still didn't know and didn't really care to.

Harry…Harry she had loved like a brother, only realizing it truly when he vanished from her life without a word or a trace. She had felt lost without him.

And even though he lay in a bed just outside the bathroom she currently crouched on her knees in, the dust on the floor clinging to her dark skirt, she still felt lost. Because it _wasn't_ Harry lying out there.

_It wasn't_.

Sighing, she levered herself to her feet, reaching out to grab the hand towel hanging from a hook to wipe her mouth. As she tossed it over to the basket in the corner for the house-elves to collect later for washing, she turned her eyes to the reflection in the mirror.

Her wild, bushy hair had long since tamed itself down and now fell in long brown and honey colored waves across her shoulders. Brown eyes still gleamed with intelligence but the innocence and happiness that had once been in them had been shattered. Dark circles gleaming from underneath those eyes and marred what was a face that was beautiful in it's plainness.

Turning away from the mirror before she could scrutinize any further, she grabbed the brass doorknob and twisted it as she pulled the door open. She crossed from the bathroom in the private hospital wing room back to the bed were Harry lay lightly dozing after his earlier explosion.

He had nearly died – nearly given up Madam Pomfrey had said later when she examined him.

But she had pulled him back.

By calling his name.

She looked at his face, brown eyes taking in every plane and groove in it in all their intricacy. There were lines and scars were she remembered none and she wondered again what had happened to her friend before he had reappeared in her life.

Sinking into the chair she'd occupied for hours each day since he'd been constrained, she dropped her head into her hands again. A dry, body-wracking sob welled up within her and she choked on it, trying to keep it from getting free.

It was then that she heard one of the most heartbreaking sounds that had ever graced her ears during her life.

"H-H-Her-ma-my-onee?"

Her head flew up out of her hands and she stared in shock across the space that lay between her and the nearby bed. Tears welled up in her eyes in reaction to what she saw.

For the first time Harry was looking at her – _really looking at her_ – without a trace of the animal that had consumed him lurking in his eyes.

"Her-my-ma-mmma-my-onee," he said, struggling with the syllables in a matter than reminded her of Viktor. "Her-mee…"

"I'm here," she whispered, rising and moving cautiously over to kneel beside his bed. She smiled as she brushed damp hair back from his forehead, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the line of his most famous scar. "I'm here, Harry. You're safe."

Emerald eyes blinked at her and fear blossomed within them as he shook his head frantically.

"N-nawt s-s-sssayfe."

"Harry, you're in Hogwarts. Of course you're safe."

Another frantic headshake and frightened gaze that unnerved her and made her wonder what had happened to him. Dumbledore – who had been guiding the Order of the Phoenix from behind the scenes since his staged death at the end of their sixth year – had insisted that Voldemort's agents within the school had kidnapped Harry. But Hermione couldn't believe that.

After all, wouldn't Voldemort have killed Harry if he had had him in his hands for four years instead of just returning him as this wreck of a man?

And what of Harry's new animalistic nature? How could that be explained?

"Nawt sayfe," repeated Harry, his eyes locked with hers. His left hand twitched in its restraint like he wanted to reach out and touch her, making him frown. He then craned his head to look down at it – a difficult feat since his head was charmed against rising more than three inches off his pillow and his upper body and legs had been strapped down since his last fit – and frowned before letting out a soft whimper of confusion. "Wh-wha?"

Hermione's heart broke at the lost expression on his face and she reached out to touch his left hand. His fingers curled about hers in response and she was surprised by the roughness of them as well as the subtle strength with which he pressed hers. She turned her gaze back towards him and a small weight lifted off her shoulders as she saw the peaceful expression that had suffused his scarred face.

"Why?" she heard him whisper.

"You've been uncontrollable," she replied slowly, taking care with the words she chose. "Three house-elves were killed in your first days back here. We had no other choice but to constrain you."

"Magickawee too?"

"Yes."

A frown took the place of his peaceful expression and Hermione could understand why. Magic had been what had changed his life, what had gotten him away from his horrid relatives for a while and had given him a better life. To have it constrained…she could not imagine what he was going through.

"Why?"

Hermione shook her head in response and replied, "Madam Pomfrey can't explain it. Professor Dumbledore…he says that Voldemort put some kind of demon in you."

The rough fingers tightened on hers as she spoke and she frowned, leaning forward worriedly.

"Harry? Harry, what is it? Did you remember something?"

He nodded, the barest of movements that his restraints would allow. His emerald eyes were slowly dulling and she could see him struggling to get his words out. They both knew that he was fading back behind whatever creature had replaced him since his return.

"N-nawt Vowldeemoort," he stammered, struggling furiously with his tongue and vocal cords. "Nawt heem."

"Who then?" she asked frantically, clutching at his hand as though that would keep him with her. She didn't want to lose him again!

"Dombuldoor," he murmured, eyes closing to half-mast. He turned his head slightly towards her and whispered, "Sowie ca'n stway, Hermee…"

Hermione sniffed, holding back a sob, and lifted her other hand to run through his damp hair. She shook her head and leaned forward to kiss his forehead, her lips brushing softly over the lightning bolt scar.

"It's okay," she breathed as she watched him fade. "Just come back. Please, Harry, come back…"

His fingers released her and she slowly collapsed to the floor, silent sobs wracking her body as she felt the painful loss of him again. Tears spattered the floor beneath her as she lay there lost in grief.

"Please come back…

Harry, please come back…

Come back…"


	3. truth

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie.

**Chapter 3: Truth**

Severus Snape was sleeping soundly when the soft melody of Bach drifted into his ears, briefly melding with his dreaming mind before it woke him. He pushed himself up into a sitting position with one elbow, grumbling curses underneath his breath in both Latin and Romanian, whilst his other arm reached out to grasp the curved shape of a mirror easily as large as his head that lay on the bedside table.

Muttering a charm, he shoved thin fingers back through his lank hair and fixed a harsh gaze on the image within the charmed glass.

Surprise showed briefly in his eyes when he saw the one who'd contacted him but it was quickly smothered underneath annoyance with practiced ease. With the life he had to lead now, showing surprise or ignorance was not something one wanted to do.

"Granger," he intoned, nodding slightly at the image of his former student. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

On the other side of the glass, Hermione looked with concern at the image of the dark man in her own mirror.

"Did I wake you?"

Severus scowled at the question and snapped, "I don't need your worry or your pity, Granger. Now what is it that you wanted?"

Hermione frowned then replied, "Information."

"About?"

She looked at him with his single arched eyebrow and slightly sneering expression for a moment before she responded.

"You're not aware that Harry reappeared two months ago, are you?"

The shock that flashed briefly within the ebony eyes gaze her all the response she needed. She quickly spoke again before he could even open his mouth.

"I know I probably shouldn't even be telling you this being as where you are but…I'm not certain I can trust anyone else."

Severus' other eyebrow rose and he sneered, "Not even your precious Weasley?"

Brown eyes hardened in response to the taunt and Hermione spat, "Ron and I have been over for three years now. And even if we weren't, no, I would _not_ have told him."

The wizard blinked at such an odd confession coming from a young woman he'd insulted for years of her schooling. Secretly he had admired her bright mind and had really only ignored her to teach her that brilliance was not always best shown off. He'd tried to prove himself and look at what happened to him…

And despite all of the insults here she was, saying that he – a convicted criminal now and determined to go to the Dementors if ever caught! – was the only person she could trust.

The Powers That Be must truly have an astounding sense of humor. Or they were simply bastards.

"Very well, Granger," he said after a moment. He sat completely up in bed, his sheets falling down to pool in his lap and exposing his bare chest, and then positioned the mirror against his slightly upraised knees. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back on the headboard and arched an eyebrow at her, saying, "I will listen."

Hermione smiled gratefully from the mirror and Severus was amused by the fact that she didn't even bat an eyelash at his undressed state or the vicious scars that marred his upper body. She was obviously made of sterner stuff than he'd originally thought.

"Thank you," she said with a nod before launching into a quick summary of the past two months. The man on the other side of her mirror frowned more with each word she said and by the time she finished, he was pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. She waited patiently for him to respond, which took him a moment to compile together.

Severus shook his head and looked up calmly at her even though he was raging inside at the news he'd just been given.

"The Dark Lord had no part in Potter's kidnapping or his new…personality," he said slowly. His right fist clenched then, fingernails digging painfully into his palm, as he added in a snarl, "But Albus…"

"He did it, didn't he?" she asked in a tight voice, interrupting him. "Dumbledore did that to Harry."

He didn't need to respond. Just a glance into her mud-brown eyes showed him that she knew she was right.

And she was just as enraged about it as he was.

"Why?" he heard her snarl as he closed his eyes, the fingers of his left hand rubbing his temple.

Severus sighed and replied, "I thought it was an idea he had, not something he was actually going to do. And I had no idea he was going to perform such a procedure on Potter." He looked up at her, lank hair falling half over the right side of his face, and added, "I may be a bastard but I never allowed a student in Hogwarts to be harmed if I could stop it. If I'd known… I'd have stopped him, Granger. What he did was…madness."

Hermione looked at him for a long moment, her eyes studying him closely – as though searching to see if what he'd just said was truthful. Then she nodded and asked, "Is there…is there anyway to…"

"Reverse it?"

She nodded tightly and he felt a pang of pain for the girl – no, _young woman_ – on the other side of the mirror.

"No," he replied truthfully. Shaking his head, he continued, "Potter's body and soul are now bound permanently to whatever creature Albus chose to use in his spell. He's been missing four years, you say?"

Hermione nodded and he frowned, shaking his head.

"Then I don't understand…" He closed his eyes, trying to remember the exact details of Dumbledore's plot. "It would have only taken him months to gather the remaining ingredients for the spell and a number of days to perform it. A year later, perhaps, Potter would have been recovered from the bonding and on his feet again… Unless…"

Severus spat out a curse, slamming his clenched fist into his mattress. He then proceeded to hurl vicious insults at Dumbledore and his entire ancestry in Romanian for a few moments before he got himself under control again.

Hermione frowned at him from the mirror and he waved a hand, saying, "Excuse my outburst."

"It's alright," she said. "What did you realize?"

He scowled before he replied, "Either Albus botched up the spells and ruined the entire procedure – which I seriously doubt for a wizard of his caliber but it _is_ possible – or…" His voice trailed off as he thought of the other possibility, his face going pale.

"What?"

Severus looked at Hermione and said, "He performed more than one procedure. And Potter's body is only just now catching up to the fact."

"You mean…"

"It is likely that he will undergo some sort of change. Physical is most likely but with this sort of thing it is hard to tell what effects the spell will have." He shook his head and added, "I wish I could help you more, Granger."

There was silence from the other side of the mirror for a moment and Severus thought he heard her choke back a sob.

"No," she said, her eyes twinkling suspiciously. "Thank you. You've helped me a great deal. But I…"

"You're worried about his mental facilities."

"How did you know?" she asked in a shocked voice.

He sighed and looked at her, asking, "How do you think Albus got such spells?"

They stared at each other for a moment then she gasped, her hand flying up to clasp over her mouth. He nodded slowly, looking directly into her horrified gaze.

"The same spells the Dark Lord used in his own transformation," he hissed, dark eyes flashing. "Albeit a little varied but still essentially the same spells. I helped in their construction and in gathering what was needed for them. When I turned, I gave Albus everything I knew. Including those spells."

"He…"

"Never tell him you know, Granger! If he has truly performed the spells, he will not allow anyone to stop him from using Potter as the weapon he's been forged into." Severus grasped the sides of the mirror and stared into her eyes before he continued in a stern voice. "Stay with him – never let him from your sight. Try you're best and draw him back, I'm certain something familiar will do just that. Keep Potter from becoming what Albus wants to turn him into."

"If he's allowed…"

"If he is allowed to turn into what he wishes, Potter will _die_," snarled Severus. "He may kill the Dark Lord but he will die in the process! And despite the fact that I loathe the boy, I would rather not be the one to drag his corpse off the final battlefield."

Hermione stared at him, her brown eyes glittering, and nodded sharply. He could tell she took his words with complete seriousness – which was how she'd taken everything he'd said since they had begun to trust each other. Dumbledore had made her his sole contact to the world outside Voldemort's court and while he had first resented being placed in the hands of a 'child', he had come to respect his ex-student. He'd been surprised two years before when she had seemed so much older and more mature than he remembered her – and much less prompt to thrust her brilliant mind forward into the spotlight.

He was rather delighted when he discovered she'd finally learned what he'd been trying to teach her since the day she stepped into his Potions classroom.

A sudden buzz in his ear alerted him to a visitor and he turned to the mirror still clenched in his hands.

"I'm afraid I must take my leave now, Granger. Remember what I told you and be careful."

"I will," she swore in a soft voice. She had learned a month into their correspondence that when he cut a conversation short so quickly he had unexpected company. "You too."

Severus snorted and picked up his wand to cut the contact between the two mirrors then paused when Hermione smirked at him.

"Oh, and sir?"

He arched an eyebrow at her and she quipped, "It's _Hermione_, not _Granger_."

With that her image vanished from the glass, leaving him with an opaque blackness. He tapped his wand against the frame to rid it of the connection from his side and laid it to the side before he got out of bed. As he pulled on his clothes and tucked his wand up his sleeve before going to see who his visitor was – who kept getting more impatient judging by the now furious buzzing in his ear and the faint knocking he could hear through the walls – he shook his head and chuckled to himself.

"Impudent girl," he muttered before he banished the conversation behind a mental door and went to greet his visitor.


	4. transformation, part 1

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie.

**Chapter 4: Transformation, Part 1**

Hermione was sitting with Harry weeks later when whatever had been done to him finally caught up – in some small part, at least. She had nearly dozed off, _Hogwarts, A History_ almost falling off her lap as she slouched in her chair, when a gut-wrenching howl pierced the air. Staggering to her feet, she left the book abandoned by the chair and rushed to Harry's side as he writhed and struggled against the straps that bound him.

She caught a flash of his eyes and saw that same wild beast in them but this time it was confused…no, _afraid_. It had no idea what was going on and why it was in pain – much like her. Though she at least kind of knew what was happening.

It was in the dark.

"It's okay, it's okay," she found herself whispering feverishly to the screaming, writhing form on the bed. "You'll be fine. You'll be perfectly fine…"

If only she could believe that herself.

A ripping noise caused her to look down and she gasped as she saw long dark claws growing out from under the nails already in his hands. Blood welled up as the old nails were ripped up and away and she winced, starting to draw her wand.

A vicious snarl made her stop and she looked at Harry's face for a moment, taking in the panic there underneath the fear and pain. She looked down at her wand again then slid it back into its sheath on her belt, sensing that he was now afraid of the objects that focused their magic into what they willed.

Silently she damned Dumbledore to the darkest pit of Hell for what he'd done.

An hour passed before Harry finally collapsed bonelessly against his restraints, his chest heaving as he sought to get air back into lungs worn out from pained screaming. Hermione moved carefully closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his.

He jerked away from her and snarled weakly, wild emerald eyes glaring at her. She frowned and tried to touch his hand again, keeping her eyes locked with his, trying to get the wild animal to understand that she only wanted to help.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Harry huffed and looked away, which made Hermione smile. She then carefully lifted his left hand in hers, picking the old nails off and placing them on the bedside table. Not seeing a washcloth she could wash the blood away with anywhere, she held up a finger to him then walked to the bathroom to get one. As she wet the cloth in the sink then filled up a small bowl with more water, a soft keen came from the main room. Quickly finishing, she rushed back into the room, careful not to spill the water.

The panic in Harry's eyes faded as she reappeared and she smiled at him, reassuringly touching his wrist as she went to place the bowl on the table. She then moved back to his hand and gently washed the blood there away with the damp washcloth before moving to his other hand.

As she moved to rewet the cloth, she noticed that the nails on his feet were in the same state as his hands. With the newly damp cloth, she moved to them and smiled a little when Harry twitched in response to her touch there.

He'd always been ticklish on his feet, she recalled. Once she and Ron had wrestled him to the floor in the Tower and had tickled him until all three of them were gasping for breath. Then they'd just lain by the fireplace for hours, sharing a slightly squished box of Bertie's Bott's Every Flavor Beans that Ron had produced from his pocket.

She smiled wistfully at the memory, which had been in much happier times. Before Voldemort had risen again and thrown them into the chaos that they existed in now.

A soft questioning growl made her look up from her ministrations and she found Harry looking curiously at her, his head slightly cocked to the side as he lifted it as far as he could. She smiled reassuringly and patted his ankle, murmuring, "I'm alright. Just…memories."

He stared at her for a moment, the intensity of the feral gaze almost but not quite unnerving her. Then he laid back and she continued her ministrations in silence. As she moved back to the table, she dropped the rag into the now light pink water then turned back to Harry's prone form. She slipped her hand into his gingerly and smiled when it closed around hers, the new claws lying feather-light on her skin.

Brown eyes met green and she reached up to touch his face but stopped when he pulled his head back a bit. Nodding, she just laid her hand down on the edge of the bed and said, "I won't hurt you. I'd _never_ hurt you, Harry. And I know you can hear me in there somewhere."

The feral eyes stared at her for a moment and seemed to soften, becoming more human before his gaze jerked away from her. A snarl bubbled up from within his throat and she pulled her hand from his just as Dumbledore entered the private room.

Harry howled in rage and anger and Hermione jumped back as his new claws slashed at the air and the sheets underneath him. She felt rage bubble up within her at the sight of the man who'd turned her friend into this mockery of a human being but she held it back, remembering Severus' words.

Schooling her expression into one of confusion, she looked up at him and he smiled kindly at her. In another time she would have returned the smile, thinking he was nothing more than her dear old Headmaster. Now he was right up there with Voldemort in her book, maybe even higher, for what he'd done to Harry.

"I see there's been no progress," he said softly as he eyed the snarling, writhing figure on the bed.

"No," replied Hermione in a short clipped voice. It was the only way she could keep anger from lacing her voice.

She wasn't even going to inform the old man that Harry's consciousness had surfaced once, that she'd spoken to him and he'd responded. Not after she'd spoken with Severus and found out that he was the cause of Harry's pain and it wasn't just some feverish rambling.

Dumbledore was about to speak again when Madam Pomfrey entered the room, obviously drawn by Harry's snarls. She frowned angrily and strode forward, planting herself directly in front of the old wizard and pointed towards the door.

"OUT!"

"Why, my dear Madam Pomfrey, I…"

"I don't care, Albus!" shouted the Mistress of the Hospital Wing. "All I care about is the health of my patients and it so appears that you are disrupting the care of this one. Now get _out!_"

Blue eyes looked at Hermione as though for help and she quickly averted her gaze to Harry. She took in the quivering of his limbs, the muscles strained already from the earlier transformation and now more so as he sought to free himself and assault the man who'd done this to him, and knew that if Dumbledore didn't leave soon under Pomfrey's stern gaze, she'd make him leave herself. Harry had been made _her_ ward, placed under _her_ care, _her_ watch. She wouldn't allow any more harm to come to him.

"Very well, my dear," she heard Dumbledore say and looked up to see him heading towards the door, Madam Pomfrey on his tail. He turned slightly towards her and smiled, saying, "Good day, Miss Granger."

Hermione gritted her teeth and replied, "Headmaster."

He looked oddly at her for a moment then was pushed out of the room by Pomfrey, who closed and locked the door. She then placed a ward on it before moving over to Hermione and the now exhausted Harry.

"What in Merlin's name was all that about?" she asked.

Hermione looked up at the door then turned away from Harry to draw her wand, casting an Anti-Eavesdropping spell around them. Pomfrey arched an eyebrow at it then blinked in shock when Hermione spoke.

"He's responsible for what happened to Harry."

The older witch looked at Hermione for a long moment then shook her head saying, "No, surely not. He couldn't! Albus…he always liked Harry!"

Hermione snorted and snarled, "Only because he _needed_ him. He had to have him to defeat Voldemort but then he apparently thought that Harry couldn't do it on his own. And _he_ couldn't do anything about _that_ whilst Voldemort thought he was alive."

She turned and pointed a finger at the still form on the bed and hissed, "He's the reason why Harry's like this. He took him seventh year and held him, performing a number of spells on him that would turn him into what he wanted – what he _needed_." Her gaze softened and she moved over to touch Harry's hand, smiling slightly when it turned and the clawed fingers laid gently over hers. "He tried to turn him into a weapon against Voldemort."

There was a moment of silence then Pomfrey breathed, "How do you know this, child?"

"Severus," replied Hermione. "I spoke to him almost three weeks ago after…after Harry – the _real_ Harry, not this shell – managed to surface for a little while. He told me that Voldemort wasn't the one who'd done this to him."

"And you trust Severus?"

The younger witch turned and looked at her for a moment then nodded. She then chuckled, a bitter sound thanks to the earlier encounter with Dumbledore, and said, "I didn't think I would at first. Now, after all these years, I sometimes think he's the only one I _can_ trust."

Pomfrey stared at her for a moment then spat out a string of curses in Welsh that made Hermione blink in surprise. She then shook her head and muttered, "Damn that man. I'm tempted to go and have a few well-put words with him…"

"No!" hissed Hermione, her arm lashing out to grasp the retreating woman's wrist. "Severus warned me not to confront him. If we do, he may very well stop at nothing to keep us away from Harry. And if he does that, Harry won't have a chance to come back. He'll be turned into the weapon Dumbledore wants." 

Pomfrey nodded then looked curiously at her.

"Are you certain he can come back?"

"He's done it once," said Hermione vehemently. "He can do it again."

She turned then and looked into the feral eyes that blinked wearily at her but refused to close. Smiling, she stroked the back of Harry's hand and whispered, "You're safe. I'll keep you safe."

Harry stared at her for a moment then growled weakly before he finally gave in to the exhaustion that had been trying for minutes to overtake him. Hermione looked fondly down at him and reached out carefully to brush strands of hair away from his scar.

"We'll keep him safe," amended Pomfrey, her eyes sparkling slightly. She wiped them and Hermione reached out to touch her shoulder reassuringly as she remembered that the mediwitch had become very protective of Harry. And well so as he'd visited her more often than anyone else in the school during their years there.

"Yes," said Hermione, looking back down at her friend's sleeping form.

_Come back, Harry_.


	5. awakening, part 3

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie.**  
**

**Chapter 5: Awakening, Part 3**

Weeks of watching over Harry turned into months and Hermione's hate for Dumbledore continued to grow as she watched what her friend had to go through. Every few weeks a new piece of the procedures had caught up and left Harry a whimpering wreck.

What truly frightened her was that during the last month she almost swore that the feral beast she'd seen for so long in his eyes – and that had come to trust her – was beginning to meld with the side that was really Harry. Every day more humanity seemed to glow from within them and the very idea that he could come out of this ordeal with that feral creature melded with his own mind…it was almost too much to bear.

And it was just another reason to hate Dumbledore.

The only positive thing that seemed to have come from the procedures was that Harry's link with Voldemort seemed to have been broken. Hermione had gotten word of two major Death Eater attack from Severus during the months and had watched Harry carefully during both. He'd slept through one and the other had been spent with her reading to him from her current book, which had been a Muggle fantasy novel at the time. For some reason the sound of her voice seemed to calm the feral creature inhabiting his body.

At the end of the seventh month and just a few days past another exhausting catch-up, Hermione was awoken by the sound of soft whimpers. She'd become accustomed to listening for any small noise from Harry's direction and rose, drawing a robe over her nightgown against the cold before she left her little enclosed space at the end of the ward, which she and Pomfrey had transformed into an adequate living space.

Padding down to Harry's bed, she moved to the edge of it and reached out to touch his shoulder in the dark. Glowing emerald eyes snapped open and she gasped as she jumped backwards in shock.

"Hermee?"

She blinked then clasped her hand over her mouth in shock as she looked into the glowing eyes. They were still feral but she could see…_she could see Harry in them_.

"Harry?" she whispered, not really wanting to believe that it was really him.

"Yeth," he replied, his words slightly garbled by lack of use and the set of fangs that Hermione had witnessed replacing his teeth months before. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she saw him scowl before he tried to speak again. "Yuh-yuh-yes. Yes"

Her heart pounding and her lungs almost ceasing to breath, Hermione just stood and stared at him for a moment. Then she flung herself onto him, not caring in the least about the indecency of her dress as she wrapped her arms about his neck and buried her face in his chest. Small sobs welled up in her throat and she let them loose, spilling her tears on the thin material of his worn shirt.

When she finally got control of herself again, she whispered, "Are you really here? You're…you're not going to disappear on me again?"

Harry shifted as though to bring his arm up to touch her and grunted when his bindings rubbed his wrist, which had already been bandaged from his having rubbed it raw during his fits. Instead he leaned his head towards hers and pressed a gentle kiss against her temple, breathing in her scent as he did so.

"Never again," he whispered, his voice still strained but his words amazingly clear excepting a small growl. "Can I…can I get up?"

Hermione lifted her head to look at him and he winced as he saw the tear tracks on her cheeks. From somewhere in the back of his mind his feral half snarled and promised pain to whoever had hurt the female that had protected it so valiantly. And somehow he sensed that that half had become _very_ fond of Hermione whilst it had been in control.

She then nodded and slid off of him, her low-cut nightgown offering him a very tantalizing view. He then winced as she drew her wand from within her robe and pulled away from her, brief flashbacks of a wand causing him so much pain and torment ripping through his mind. Hermione muttered an apology then quickly spoke the counter spells to those that surrounded him. He felt the magical barrier around him flicker then fall apart like glass and shuddered as he suddenly felt magic again for…oh Merlin knew how long.

As his bindings, both magical and physical, fell away he slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows. Or he tried to. He managed to lever himself a quarter of the way up then collapsed back onto the bed with a frustrated growl. When he tried again, gentle hands assisted him and he turned his head to find Hermione there, a gentle smile on her face. She seemed to glow in his eyes – which he quickly surmised had been fixed and could now see in the dark as though it were day – and he noticed that she had grown into a beautiful young woman.

Idly he wondered what he looked like now. If he did his calculations right, he was twenty-one…no, maybe twenty-two now? He'd have to figure out the date to be certain.

"Madam Pomfrey kept your limbs from atrophying whilst you were lying there," he heard Hermione say softly. "Though you still need to get used to using them again."

"Yeah," he muttered as his brain sent a signal for his arm to move and it blatantly refused. Huffing in annoyance, he looked at Hermione, and said," This is going to take a while, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly then smiled and moved to hug him again, sliding his arms around behind her as she did so. He gripped her robe in his hands – which were one of the only body parts he had that followed his commands still – and just held her, feeling relieved to have something familiar (and, above all, friendly) close to him again.

"I'm glad you're back," she whispered, her voice slightly muffled as her face was pressed against his chest.

"Me too," he breathed back, closing his eyes. He dropped his head against her shoulder, gently nuzzling her neck with his nose and breathing in her scent. Thanks to Dumbledore – the very thought of the man made him see red – all of his senses were apparently much better than before. He could smell another woman on her (Pomfrey, perhaps?) as well as the faint tracings of Dumbledore's scent, which made him hold back a growl. There was also another scent on her: male, strong, and not quite human.

Not…quite…human…

Him.

_Merlin no._

Harry quickly pulled back from Hermione – or as quickly as he could with little muscle control – and focused wild eyes on her face.

"What happened?"

She stared at him then looked away, tears welling up in her eyes as she hurriedly closed them. He instantly reached up to touch her face with a jerking motion because of his arm, wanting to wipe them away, but froze when he saw the dark claws that had replaced his fingernails.

"Hermione, what happened to me!"

She flinched at the horror in his voice then slowly turned, reaching out towards the bedside table. Her slim fingers lifted a small mirror from there and he swallowed hard as she solemnly held it so he could look at it.

If she'd looked him in the eyes whilst doing so he might have been okay.

Harry looked cautiously down at the mirror and hissed, a rattling, almost snake-like sound at what he saw reflected back at him.

Long hair hung in greasy clumps about his face, which was familiar to him yet unfamiliar at the same time. He hadn't seen his own image since he was seventeen and now…God, he nearly didn't recognize himself. His jaw was slightly squarer than he remembered and his cheeks were hollow (though that was more than likely from the scarce eating he could vaguely recall doing than aging), which contrasted harshly with his now pale skin. A green glow seemed to suffuse his face and he realized quickly that in the dim light of the room his eyes were glowing softly. They also weren't human anymore; his irises seemed to have spread to fill his entire eye and his pupil's…well they seemed to have decided that round was no longer to be their proper shape and had assumed a horizontal position and a snake-like shape. It didn't help that they were gleaming silver.

The lightening bolt scar that had made him famous had darkened since he'd last seen it and was now pitch black instead of just a shade off of his skin color. There also wasn't the slightest twinge coming from it and that was slightly worrying.

More worrying was the fact that he now had a pair of rather furry cat – or maybe wolf – ears where his human one's should be. The fact that he suddenly realized he also now had an extra appendage that seemed to be a tail didn't help matters.

He stared at his reflection for a moment longer then growled, "I'm going to kill him."

Hermione tossed the mirror onto his pillow then shook her head, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

"You can't," she whispered. "There are still things happening to you, Harry. You're still changing. Madam Pomfrey isn't certain how much longer it'll take for it to complete but she knows that it's not done."

Harry frowned down at her then sighed, knowing what she said was true. He felt uneasy within his own skin and he could feel the changes still happening within him. His insides were reforming into something else…something that scared the living daylights out of him. And as could be told by his physical changes, it wasn't only his innards that were changing.

"I'm afraid, Harry. Oh, God, I'm so afraid!"

"I know, I know," he whispered, jerkily pulling her close with the arm he'd begun to slowly regain control of. She buried her face in his chest again and he tried to nuzzle her neck reassuringly. "I'm scared too."

Then he smiled tightly against her throat.

"Let's be scared together, 'kay?"

"'Kay," mumbled Hermione back. Her hair tickled his new right ear and it twitched in reaction, making him grimace. He had a lot to get used to now – most especially the feral presence he could feel at the back of his mind.

Leaning back slightly, he looked down at his friend, the one who had been by his side no matter what and had even stood by him when he was lost to himself.

As long as Hermione was with him, he could make it through anything.


	6. transformation, part 2

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie.**  
**

**Chapter 6: Transformation, Part 2**

"Easy, easy!" hissed Madam Pomfrey as she held onto Harry's hand. "Hold on, son, hold on. It'll be over soon."

The mediwitch looked up at Hermione after she'd spoken, her eyes searching the young woman's face. She was sitting on her knees, Harry's head held in her lap with one hand on each cheek. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders and mixed with his as she bent over him.

Silent tears fell from Hermione's eyes as she watched her best friend's face turn haggard in response to a pain she could only imagine. All she could do was hold his head in her lap and stroke his cheek until the episode passed, leaving him changed in yet another way.

It had been a month since Harry's consciousness had melded enough with his feral one that he could regain control. That melding had continued and now he had significantly more animal reactions to things and people around him.

Especially around Dumbledore and Hermione.

Around the former he would back away and snarl, ears laid back against his head and clawed fingers twitching. Madam Pomfrey had swiftly banned the old wizard from the hospital wing when Hermione informed her that if Dumbledore kept making appearances, Harry was going to lose it and attack him.

Around the latter he was extremely protective, which caused Hermione some annoyance and amusement at the same time. At any perceived threat he would lunge in front of her and would keep her behind him until he was either convinced that she wasn't in harms way or the perceived threat left.

Over the month since he'd regained control of his body, the two of them had gotten reacquainted with each other and their friendship had grown even stronger. And Hermione was starting to question her feelings for him – at least that they were just friendly feelings. Sometimes she didn't know how she felt about him at all.

Except when he was in pain from a new transformation like he currently was. When that happened she wanted nothing more than to take away all of his pain, to stop what was happening to him in its tracks.

It was during these times that she realized Ron had been right. Only he had been the one to cause it to happen.

She was falling in love with Harry.

A groan of pain brought fresh tears to her eyes and she looked down into Harry's pain-filled eyes, wincing as she saw a small stream of blood coming out of the side of his mouth. Wiping it away, she whispered, "I'm here."

He stared at her for a moment then closed his eyes as another wave of pain hit him, causing him to curl up into a ball. The two women looked at each other over him, realizing that the end of this transformation was nearing its end. Harry was in the worst pain near the end of each one and his body instinctively curled up into the smallest form possible to confront it.

A few more moments of painful waiting passed then Harry's body went limp, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He rolled over onto his stomach after a moment and buried his face in Hermione's lap as he wrapped his arms around her thighs. She leaned down over him and whispered words of comfort as his silent tears soaked the legs of her pants.

It took Harry five minutes to compose himself and sit up with the assistance of both women. They all sat on the floor for a moment, him leaning heavily against them, before they struggled to their feet. Despite Harry being hands taller than both of them, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey had no trouble getting him on his feet and into bed.

As they started to lay him back, Madam Pomfrey's hand brushed along the upper half of his back and he yowled in pain, jerking away from her. If Hermione had not been on his other side to catch him, he would have fallen out of bed.

The younger woman frowned as she held her friend against her, feeling minute shivers running up and down his body. Then she glanced at the mediwitch, who moved forward and pushed his shirt up to see what had caused him pain. What they saw was the cause made them both shudder in disgust.

Below Harry's shoulder blades the skin had begun to push outward thanks to new bone growth there. The flesh was stretched so tightly over the bone that it and every vein were clearly visible. And as far as the two of them could tell, the growth was continuing in slow increments even as they watched it.

"Let's put him on his stomach instead," said Madam Pomfrey as she carefully pulled his shirt back down. Then with a frown she added, "And take off his shirt."

Hermione nodded and between the two of them they managed to do just that. Harry shivered and whimpered through the entire procedure and continued to do so after they'd gotten him situated. With a worried frown, the young woman pulled her customary chair close to his bed and sat down, clutching his clawed hand in hers. Emerald eyes blinked open to look blearily at her for a moment then, with a weary sigh, Harry slipped into the deep sleep that was customary after a catch-up.

A sigh from Madam Pomfrey made her look up and she asked, "Are those what I think they are?"

The mediwitch shook her head and replied, "I'm not certain, m'dear. All of this is as new to me as it is to you." She paused then continued, "But I have a fair idea as to what they might be."

"Wings."

"Yes," said the older woman, closing her eyes. She then opened them and reached out, laying a gentle hand on Harry's lower back. "Poor boy…"

"He's not really a boy anymore," pointed out Hermione.

"Oh, I know that, child. Yet he still is even though he is not. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

Madam Pomfrey nodded then asked, "Have you had any contact with Severus of late?"

Hermione shook her head in response.

"No," she replied in a worried tone. "I'm almost afraid that he's been found out."

"If I know that man, child, he's walking that line. But it will be a while yet before he's found out."

"I know. But I can't help but worry."

"I as well." The mediwitch smiled then and said, "It still surprises me to hear you speak kindly of him."

Hermione shrugged at that and looked at Harry's slumbering form as she said, "I did still dislike him for a long time. Then after a while I realized how silly it was and how it could get him killed if I didn't work with him." She smiled then and chuckled. "Besides, our conversations are some of the most intellectual I get to have nowadays. And I don't think he can find anyone else that can match his barbs as well."

Madam Pomfrey looked at her for a moment then chuckled.

"I will have to agree with you on that, my dear." She then frowned and said, "I'll be back in a moment," as she turned and headed towards the door that lead into the main part of the hospital wing.

"Is it him?" asked Hermione, not looking away from Harry as she did so.

"It may very well be but I doubt it. Probably just some first year who's gotten cursed again in Defense."

With that she was through the door and gone, leaving Hermione alone with Harry's slumbering form. She looked at him for a long moment, taking in the protrusions on his back sad eyes that quickly turned angry.

What right did Dumbledore have to do this to him! Didn't Harry have the right to a normal life more so than any of them? Did he not deserve to get to choose how he lived for once in his life?

She bared her teeth, brown eyes flashing with an angry fire, and gripped his hand tightly.

Dumbledore wouldn't control Harry ever again so long as _she_ was around! She'd make sure that he lived the way he wanted to live. Even if the effort to see it through killed her, she'd see it done!

Harry would be free.


	7. conversations, part 1

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie.**  
**

**Chapter 7: Conversations, Part 1**

"Hermione."

She shifted in her seat, burrowing her face further into the pillow of her folded arms. Stupid voice interrupting her sleep…

"Hermione, wake up."

Why didn't it shut up and let her sleep?

A sigh and then wearily a male voice stated, "Hermione, your mirror has been playing the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's _Carol of the Bells_ for the past ten minutes. And as much as I enjoy hearing guitars in a Christmas tune, I'd like it to stop."

Hermione jolted upright then and stared into a pair of tired emerald eyes, blinking.

"Wha?"

Harry smiled slightly and said, "Your mirror's ringing."

She blinked then gasped and scrambled out of her chair, making a wild dash around Harry's bed to the table beside her own. Snatching up the mirror, she tapped it with her wand and exclaimed, "I'm sorry! I was asleep!" She then noticed the face in the mirror had blood smeared across its right cheek and a black eye blooming marvelously on the same side. "What in Merlin's name happened?"

"No time to explain," replied Severus in a low growl. "I'm taking a chance contacting you right now. If I'm caught, the consequences will be deadly."

Hermione frowned then said, "Tell me."

Her ex-professor nodded and looked around before he began to speak.

"One of the Auror battalion commanders apparently got it into his head to attack us. Remember the meeting I told you earlier I wanted you to inform Shacklebolt about?"

She nodded and he scowled

"Apparently this idiot took it into his head to strike at us. Now I'm being looked at suspiciously and am stuck in the fortress as I can't get out without getting caught in someone's spells." He glowered at her as she opened her mouth and spat, "And don't even suggest trying to Apparate. I've tried. All of the wards are still up, so I haven't an idea of how those idiots got in."

"Why are you contacting me?" asked Hermione. "Surely it would be safer to just sit and wait it out."

"I don't have that luxury. If I knew for certain that I would make it out of here, I'd have waited to contact you."

A feeling of dread flickered to life in the young woman's stomach at those words.

"Sir…please don't tell me that…"

"He knows," interrupted Severus. "I'm uncertain how but he knows that Potter is back. He apparently can't reach him through the connection in his scar, which has him worried." He turned away from the mirror then, revealing a bleeding gash on his neck, and Hermione faintly heard the sounds of a struggle through the glass. A shout of the Killing Curse made her wince and she looked fearfully at the face in the mirror.

"You should go," she said.

He nodded and looked at her with dark eyes that were intense with an emotion she couldn't quite comprehend.

"I know. I had to let you know first."

She smiled tightly and said, "Thank you, sir."

Severus nodded again then lifted his wand to sever the connection between their mirrors. He paused as she reached out a hand to touch the glass on her side and he looked at her curiously.

"Granger?"

Hermione smiled as warmly as she could and said, "Be careful."

The spy turned Potions Master turned fugitive chuckled bitterly at that.

"Always. Goodbye, Hermione."

With that the mirror went dark, leaving her gaping blankly down at its smooth surface. She then pressed it against her chest, closing her eyes as she willed a sob back.

True, she had never liked Severus Snape – had even thought she'd hated him when she'd thought he was responsible for Dumbledore's death. But when the ruse was revealed to her amongst the others in the inner circle and she was set to be their spy's only link to the outside world, she'd thrown away her hate. She'd come to respect him over time and thought of him as somewhat of a confidant and a friend.

His final words before he'd cut the connection between their mirrors's had been too much like a last goodbye.

Hermione held back tears as she set the mirror down, silently cursing the world. Dumbledore, a man so many had looked up to, had turned out to be no better than Voldemort in her eyes for what he'd done to Harry. And Severus Snape, a man who lived life one day at a time with every action possibly leading his death if he did something wrong and seen as a murderer by most of the world, had turned out to be a surprisingly noble man despite his bitter nature.

If the latter died and the former were allowed to live…something was wrong in the world.

To allow the man who had turned away from the Darkness then had willingly gone back into it with the title of murderer attached to his name to die and to let the man who had kidnapped her best friend against his will and turned him into whatever he was now live would be one of the most unfair things the world has ever done.

But then again, when was life fair?

"Hermione?"

Turning away from the mirror, she looked over at Harry, who had turned his head so he could look at her. Concern was clear in his emerald eyes as well as pain that was well hidden behind a carefully forged mask.

"What's wrong?" he asked as she approached his bed. He tried to shift and sit upright but that just made the pain radiating from his back worse. Grunting, he stilled and just looked at her before reaching out to wrap his clawed hand about her own. "Hermione, please, talk to me."

She looked down at him with a lost expression on her face and such hopelessness in her eyes that it made him wince. His feral half stirred to life in response and growled, demanding to know what had caused its female to look such a way. He firmly told it she was no one's female, least of all its, then carefully pressed her again for information.

"Hermione, please tell me what's wrong."

"I-it's Snape."

Harry blinked then remembered that Snape had been conversing with her over the past few years. Surprisingly he didn't feel any amount of dislike for the man anymore. Not after he'd found out Dumbledore was alive and what the old wizard had put him through. Snape may not have liked him, but he would never have done the things Dumbledore had done to him. Or allowed them to be done if he'd known they were going to occur.

"What about him?" he asked softly, tugging her closer to the bed. If only he could get up without feeling that intense pain in his back! She needed comfort, damnit! More comfort than he could give lying here on his stomach on this accursed bed.

"The meeting he was at was attacked by Auror's and he's not certain if he will be able to make it out alive." She then looked at him with fear in her eyes and said, "But his real reason for contacting me was to give me information."

"Information?" repeated Harry. "What sort of information?"

He then felt a tremor of fear rise up within him and began, "Hermione, did he…"

"Voldemort knows you're back," she said, interrupting him. Her hand clenched about his then and he both saw and smelt the tears in her eyes. "He knows and we're never going to get another moments rest now that he knows!"

Harry smiled and lifted their entwined hands so he could brush his claws against her cheek. The contact of cool bone against skin made her look at him, tears forgotten, and he said, "And were we getting a moments rest anyway? Between these damned transformations of mine and Dumbledore's continued meddling, have we really had much rest?"

She looked at him for a long moment then shook her head.

"No, I suppose not. But, Harry…"

"Shh." He slipped his hand from hers and covered her mouth, saying, "So long as I have you at my side, I have no worries. Not even Voldemort knowing I'm back can make me worry."

Hermione's heart hammered against her ribs at his words and she leaned forward, gently touching his cheek. His wolfish ears flicked and he leaned into the touch, eyes closing to half-mast in content. Then they opened and he smiled at her.

She returned the smile and whispered, "I'll always be at your side, Harry."

His hand closed around hers as he said, "I know."


	8. conversations, part 2

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie.**  
**

**Chapter 8: Conversations, Part 2**

"Anymore pain?" asked Hermione as she joined Harry on top of the North Tower. A freezing gust of wind blowing past made her pull her cloak tighter around her and she frowned at her friend's attire.

He was wearing loose, black pants with a small slit in back where his tail could slip through and a white muscle shirt that also had two slits in it for his now fully formed wings. The only problem with his attire was that it was late December and the lake having completely frozen over was enough evidence that it was cold outside. Yet somehow Harry wasn't bothered by the cold at all, as evidenced by his attire and bare feet.

Turning to look at her, Harry shook his head then flexed his wings one last time before folding them against his back. As he did this, she took a good look at his wings, which had gone from being frail and bat-like to powerful looking feathered wings. They were easily fifteen feet long from the tip to where they connected to his back and covered in glossy black feathers that shone with an iridescent green hue when light struck them. And somehow they looked entirely right on him, even though she knew that they should not be there.

Abruptly hands lifted her up and she let out a squeal as Harry deposited her on the edge of the wall that surrounded the open area at the top of the Tower. He then hopped up beside her with a grin and said, "I think there are only a few more transformations left."

She blinked then smiled brightly, asking, "How many exactly do you think there are?"

"Three, maybe four. Five at the most, though I doubt it." He shrugged and continued, "I'm starting to feel kind of normal again, which is a good sign that everything's evening out. So I say it'll just be three more and they'll be small."

Hermione nodded then shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her. Harry looked at her for a moment then opened his wings, extending one to fold around her. She looked at him curiously then smiled and scooted closer, leaning her head against his shoulder. His arm wrapped about her waist in response as his other wing came around to shield her against the wind.

They sat for a long moment in silence then he asked, "Any word from Snape?"

"Not yet. Though I know he hasn't been killed as that would be in the newspapers."

Harry blinked then grunted.

"Eh. I forgot he was still being blamed for the old man's so-called death."

"You still don't like him."

"And probably never will," said Harry. He then caught her eyes and added, "But I respect him. It takes guts to do what he does for so long and not Avada Kedavra yourself."

He looked at the sky above them that was starting to glow with the light of the rising sun and smiled bitterly.

"I also know that despite every scathing comment he's ever said or for whatever he holds against me because of my father, he'd never have harmed a student. That's something he's got above the old man."

She nodded then shivered again, asking, "Aren't you cold?"

Harry shook his head in response then lifted her over his leg so she sat between his. He then wrapped his arms around her, drawing her back against his chest and she gasped at the amount of warmth radiating off his body. A chuckle responded to her gasp and she turned to regard him with shocked eyes.

"How are you so warm?"

"Haven't the foggiest," he replied as he carefully folded his wings about them to block the wind but still allow them to view the grounds. "But I like it. Having to wear layers of clothing during the winter has always bothered me."

Hermione frowned then asked, "Have you tried flying yet?"

His dark head shook in response.

"Not yet. I want to make sure everything's done before I try to start figuring anything."

Abruptly his ears laid back against his head and his lips drew back from his fangs in a snarl. Hermione felt more than heard the growl rumbling up from within his chest and scowled.

"Dumbledore?" she queried.

"Yeah," growled Harry in response. He then looked at her, cold fury smoldering in his eyes, and asked, "You willing to risk a short flight to get away from him?"

"Yes. Are you certain you can?"

He nodded and replied, "Gliding I can do. Just have to keep my wings open to catch the wind."

Hermione nodded then blinked when he shifted behind her, rising carefully into a crouch with his arms wrapped securely about her ribs, clawed hands clasped together underneath her breasts. Then she looked up at him and saw slight worry in his eyes.

Smiling reassuringly, she said, "I've been working on my fear of flying."

"Oh. Good."

The fact that she had been working on her fear of flying over the past year did not keep her from screaming as she was suddenly in the air with nothing but Harry's arms holding her up. She grasped at his biceps in terror, fingernails digging into skin and muscle as she watched the ground coming up at them. Wind whistled around the two of them as they glided downward from the tower, Harry's slightly flared wings catching it perfectly.

She collapsed as he released her, crumpling into a shivering heap on the snowy ground. A grunt and a muffled curse from nearby made her look up and she saw Harry getting to his feet, snow clinging to his clothes and wings. He flapped them irritably before folding them against his back and walking over to her, carefully helping her to her feet. As she fell against him when her knees wobbled, he chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly about her.

"I see there hasn't been much progress with your fear."

"There's been plenty of progress," she grumbled against his shoulder. "Flying on a broom and without one are two very different things, thank you very much."

Harry chuckled again and looked down at her in amusement, saying, "I think you've been hanging around Snape too much."

Hermione snorted at him then said, "Shut up and let's get inside. You may be immune to the cold now but I'm not."

"I'm not immune to the cold," replied Harry as they began to walk back towards the main entrance with their arms entwined. "I just have a higher tolerance for it now."

"Humph."

They fell into a comfortable silence until they entered the entrance hall, whereupon a furious Madam Pomfrey came across them.

"What in Merlin's name do you two think you're doing!"

Harry and Hermione looked nervously at each other, feeling like first years again in the face of the mediwitch's wrath, then looked back at her. He frowned then replied, "I needed some air after being cooped up in the infirmary for so long."

"And it's Christmas holidays, so there aren't too many students here to see him," added Hermione. "Especially not at this early in the morning."

Madam Pomfrey glared at them, hands on her hips, then harrumphed, saying, "Alright then. But you had better get back to the infirmary immediately, young man! I want you where I can keep an eye on you."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," said Harry meekly, which seemed to sedate her. As she walked off, he looked at Hermione and asked, "Did me leaving make her miss a few hours of sleep or something?"

The bushy-haired young woman at his side shook her head and replied, "No. She just worries about you. Especially since I told her what happened to you."

Emerald eyes darkened and he said, "Ah. Well, that makes sense now. Guess we'd better get back to the hospital wing, eh?"

"Yes. I'd rather not run into Dumbledore after how we left the tower. He had to have known we were up there."

"More than likely," said Harry as they began to walk towards the hospital wing, their arms still entwined. "Damned conniving old man. I swear if he tries anything…"

"Don't swear," admonished Hermione, covering his mouth with her hand. She searched his face with fearful eyes then looked away, breathing, "I don't want to lose you again."

He blinked and looked down at her in surprise for a moment before his gaze softened. Grasping her face in both hands, he lifted it so their eyes met.

"You won't," he promised as he leaned his face close to hers. Hermione thought for a moment that he was going to kiss her but he just leaned his forehead against hers, inhuman eyes staring into her own. At least they appeared inhuman to anyone that didn't know how to look within them.

When she looked in them, she saw everything that was Harry.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

"Promise?" she whispered, lifting her hand to touch his cheek.

He smiled and moved one hand to cover hers, turning his head to kiss her palm gently. She shivered in response to the feather light contact then stared into his eyes again.

"Promise," he swore.

She smiled then said, "Now we'd better get you back to the hospital wing before Madam Pomfrey has a fit and starts cursing things."

Harry chuckled as they started walking again, wrapping his arm about her shoulders. She leaned comfortably against him and entwined her own arm about his waist.

"That I'd like to see. Especially if we threw the old man in the way."

Hermione noted the anger that slipped into his voice when he said that and looked at him with a grim smile.

"Y'know what?" she said, causing him to blink at her. "I'd like to see that myself."

Harry stared at her for a moment then said, "You really _have_ been spending too much time around Snape."

The young woman huffed and glared at him then broke down into giggles with he just grinned back at her and pressed, "Well you _have!_"

"Okay, so I _have_," she said as they entered the hospital wing. "And what are you going to do about it, mister?"

"Do about it?" asked Harry with an arched eyebrow. "And why would I do anything about it? I like the Slytherinly influenced you."

"Really?"

"Yup."

Hermione smiled then asked, "Want to play a game of chess?"

"I haven't gotten any better."

"Neither have I. And that's beside the point."

Harry looked at her for a moment then shrugged, saying, "Alright. Let's play."

And so it was several hours later that Madam Pomfrey found the two of them asleep on top of their makeshift table, the chess pieces scattered between their slumbering forms. The mediwitch smiled as she saw their entwined hands and moved back out of the room, wishing that the slight peace they had enjoyed would last.

Yet she knew in her heart that it would not last.

**Author's Note**

No lovey for you, readers! At least not yet. :D


	9. transformation, part 3

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. _/opens wallet and moths fly out_/ No money. No ownie.**  
**

**Chapter 9: Transformation, Part 3**

"Please," begged Harry plaintively as Hermione and Madam Pomfrey helped him into bed, "can I kill the old man? I mean, nobody'd really miss him, right?"

"Alas, there are some that would," replied the mediwitch. She brushed hair back from his sweaty face as she added, "They don't know what he's done to you."

He frowned at that and said, "You…you mean no one besides you too, him, and Snape know that I'm even here?"

At the two women's nods he closed his eyes and grumbled, "Well, that's not nice," before exhaustion from what they all hoped was his last and final transformation caught up. Hermione looked down at him for a long moment then turned to the older woman on the other side of the bed.

"We have to get out of here."

The mediwitch blinked then nodded, saying, "To keep him away from Albus."

"Yes," replied Hermione. "For all we know he did something that would allow him complete control of Harry, no matter what Harry wanted."

"I don't doubt it, my dear. But how are you planning to get out?"

The young woman smirked and replied, "I have an accomplice."

Madam Pomfrey frowned then clasped both hands over her mouth.

"Dear Merlin…Severus?"

Hermione nodded in confirmation.

"My word…how on earth did you manage to convince him to come back to Hogwarts, let alone go against Albus!"

"He hates what he did as much as we do," replied Hermione, her hand moving to clutch at Harry's. "As much as he dislikes him, he'd never have allowed Dumbledore to do this to him if he'd been around."

"How would he have stopped it?"

"Who do you think gave him the spells?"

The mediwitch blinked then gasped, "Merlin…those…Hermione, don't tell me they were the same spells that You-Know-Who used!"

"Say the name," said Hermione sternly. "And, yes, they were. Apparently he performed them over and over with different variants for it to take this long for the effects to start showing."

"Dear Merlin…all these years…"

"Yes." The young woman turned back towards the occupied bed with a fierce expression on her face. "But now he's here. And I won't let that bastard hurt him ever again."

"Hermione…"

"I mean it. Even if I have to kill Dumbledore and make him stay dead this time. Harry will _not_ go through that again or be a slave. I won't allow it! _I won't!_"

The mediwitch was stunned by the young woman's vigor but could understand. After Ron had left her, she had been an empty shell – just there half the time and somewhere else the rest. When Harry had reappeared, even as he had been at the beginning, she had come back to life.

Her feelings for Harry were strong and she could tell that Harry's were just as powerful. They were all they had left and had to depend on each other. And they would stand by each other till the end.

Reaching across Harry, Madam Pomfrey gripped the younger woman's free hand, causing her to look up in surprise. Then she smiled and whispered, "Be careful, child."

"I will," swore Hermione. She looked at Harry again and continued, "I won't abandon him again."

"You didn't abandon him."

"No, I did. I gave up on him coming back after those first few months. Then…then I realized something."

The mediwitch frowned and asked, "Realized what?"

Hermione smiled in response, saying, "That if Harry were gone, Voldemort would have made his move. He would have taken us all and never batted an eyelash. But he didn't. And I knew then that Harry was still out there somewhere. I had hope again."

The two women stood there in silence with Harry's slumbering form between them for what seemed an eternity before either spoke.

"You love him," said Madam Pomfrey suddenly. Brown eyes stared at her and she chuckled. "I know it when I see it, child."

Hermione blinked at her then nodded, looking down at him.

"I do. Ron was right. Except that his leaving me caused it."

"He was never right for you."

"I know," said the younger woman sadly. "But I did love him. Just…in a different way."

"Are you going to tell him?" asked the mediwitch.

"Ron?"

A sigh answered her then, "_Harry_, child."

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip and mumbled, "I don't know."

"What on earth do you mean you don't know!"

"He has enough to worry about right now. I…I don't want to burden him with anything else."

Madam Pomfrey's stern look faded and she smiled, saying, "Yes, he does. And, child?"

"Mmm?"

"You have never been a burden."

The younger woman blushed a bit at that.

"Well, I'm off to bed then. You'll be alright here on your own, won't you?" The mediwitch laughed then and said, "Oh, of course you will. Goodnight, my dear."

"Goodnight, Madam Pomfrey."

"Oh please, call me Poppy."

Hermione smiled and amended, "Goodnight, Poppy."

Madam Pomfrey returned the smile then left, heading towards her waiting quarters. Hermione watched her go then turned back to Harry, only to find tired green eyes regarding her seriously.

"I thought you were unconscious," she said after an uneasy pause.

"I was," he replied in a hoarse voice. "But you two caught some feathers when you laid me down. Painful."

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry…"

"It's nothing."

Hermione nodded and the two sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

"Hermee?"

There was silence in return then, "That is a horrible nickname."

Harry smiled tiredly and said, "I like it."

Hermione huffed then looked at him, saying, "You were going to ask something?"

He nodded and she waited.

The question she got made her knees weak and all blood rush from her head.

"Do…do you really…love me?"

She stared at him blankly for a moment then gasped, "_Yes._"

"How?"

"What?"

"How?" asked Harry again. "Like a sibling? Like a pet? Or…"

Hermione smiled as she took his closest hand in both of hers and said, "I love you. Not like a brother nor a pet. I love you for you. And…I hope you feel the same but will understand if…"

She was cut off as Harry freed his hand from hers and grasped her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his from where she'd lowered them. Caught by the intense emotion in his entirely emerald eyes, she was shocked into silence.

"I'm uncertain of what I feel for you," he said softly. "I thought of you as a sister before but now…now it's different. If it's love, I don't know, having never known it until I came to Hogwarts. But…I'd like to find out what it is."

"And if it is?" she asked, heart hammering against her ribs.

"Then I'm yours."

"Mine?"

"Yours," confirmed Harry with a smile. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek, the tip of his claw tracing an obscure pattern at the corner of her eye, as he continued, "For as long as you want me."

Hermione chuckled and said, "I know this is going to sound horrendously cheesy but is forever long enough?"

"Oh, I think we can deal with that," he replied, chuckling himself. "Now that that's settled…I'm going back to sleep."

"Well, you are exhausted."

"Mmm. Night, Hermee."

Hermione smiled and rose from her chair, brushing hair away from his face as his eyelids fluttered closed. She then bent her head and placed a feather light kiss on his lips, murmuring, "I love you."

There was a mumble in response that may have been "luff, ooo" and she laid his hand across his chest before retreating to her own bed. She paused before she passed the curtain that separated her from the rest of the wing and looked back at him, feeling lighter than air.

Then she went past the curtain to get ready for bed, never noticing a pair of blue eyes that had been watching from the door into the main part of the hospital wing.

**Author's Note**

Feel the love! And who do those mysterious eyes belong to? I wonder, I wonder…


	10. flight, part 1

**Chapter 10: Flight, Part 1**

"We have a problem."

"Oh God no," said Hermione as she turned to face a pallid Madam Pomfrey. "What's wrong?"

"Minerva just informed me that Albus is setting up to strengthen the wards. I…I think he may be trying to keep Harry from getting away."

The younger woman paled at that then a savage expression crossed her face. She moved quickly away from the hospital bed she had been tucking sheets over and vanished into the private section of the hospital wing were she and Harry slept. Madam Pomfrey just stood and waited for her to return, blinking when she did so with a fair-sized mirror in her arms and a sheet-draped Harry trailing in her wake.

He blinked sleep-numbed eyes at her then looked at Hermione as she propped the mirror up against a pillow and drew her wand. A violent shudder ran through him and he turned away, eyes closed tightly as memories he wanted dearly to forget assaulted his mind.

The bushy-haired witch didn't see this as he was behind her and continued on, tapping her wand three time against the surface of the mirror and intoning, "Call!" There was a spark of white light and then the mirror rippled before the reflection shifted from them to Severus Snape's confused face.

"This is mildly unexpected."

"We have a problem," said Hermione, her voice edged with a growl. Harry caught the sound of it and moved closer to her, carefully placing a clawed hand on her shoulder. She tensed then relaxed a bit, her hand sliding up to clench his.

In the mirror, Snape startled and stared at him.

"Dear Merlin…"

"Hello, professor," said Harry, nodding slightly.

Snape just blinked for a moment then scowled briefly before his expression faded to one of regret. Dark eyes stared into silver-stained emerald then and he said, "You know I…"

"Would never have allowed the old man to do this to me. Yes, I know," finished Harry, startling the older man at the lack of anger in his tone. He then looked at Hermione and asked, "Now why did you call him?"

"Yes, I was wondering that myself," said the man in the mirror.

Hermione sighed then looked at Snape seriously, saying, "We're going to have to move now."

A dark eyebrow arched at that. "_Now?_"

"Or at least within a few hours."

Harry frowned and asked, "What's going on?"

Madam Pomfrey stepped forward to answer before the younger woman could, saying, "Albus is going to strengthen the wards tonight…at least that's what he told Minerva. I believe he's actually gotten wind of our plan to get you out of here and is taking precautions against it."

Anger flickered across the young man's face at that and the clawed hand that clutched the sheet about his neck, keeping his wings tucked close to his back, tightened so the knuckles turned white. He bared his fangs in a silent snarl and spat, "_Bastard_."

In the mirror, Snape's expression very nearly mirrored Harry and he gave Hermione a hard glance before nodding fiercely.

"Very well then," he said. "I'll get my things and set out now. There's probably already some sort of precautions against him leaving set into the wards, so wait on the edge of the grounds near the Forest."

"He'll find them there," said the mediwitch. "Better to wait on one of the tower's and fly out."

" 'Fly?' " repeated Snape in an incredulous tone.

Harry smirked coldly in response, saying, "It's more like a glide right now but eventually I'll work up to the actual flying."

The once-professor blinked, trying to process this, then shook his head before looking at Hermione seriously.

"I'll come through the Forest and will be waiting in the glade where the monkshood grows. You recall where it is?"

"Yes, sir," replied Hermione. "And thank you."

"No need to thank me," said Snape with a shake of his head. "After the hell all of us have been put through, I'm quite willing to help anyone put a bee in the old man's bonnet."

Harry chuckled darkly at that. "Even me?"

"Even you, Potter."

Hermione frowned at the two of them then asked, "How long will it take you to get here?"

"Two hours at the most," replied the Potions Master. "An hour and a half at the least. Be ready to go in an hour just in case I manage to move faster."

"We will."

"Good. Until then."

With that Snape vanished, leaving the mirror's surface blank for a moment before it returned to reflecting Hermione and Harry in its surface. She gingerly picked up the mirror then and turned towards Harry, who still had his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you ready?"

He arched an eyebrow and gave her a quizzical look, as though to say, 'You have to ask?'

Madam Pomfrey looked at the two of them for a moment then asked, "Shall I send the house elves to pack up your things, Hermione?"

"Send just Dobby to do it. The less people that know of things, the better."

The mediwitch nodded then left the hospital wing, leaving the two of them standing in the middle of it. Harry looked around for a long moment then sighed, "I'll miss this place."

Hermione smiled sadly and whispered, "Me too."

Green eyes looked at her for a long moment then they both started to move back towards the private wing, hands slowly drifting together as they walked. As they went through the doorway, Harry asked in a soft voice, "What did we do to deserve this?"

"I don't know," she replied, feeling the beginning of the sting of tears in her eyes at the plaintive tone in his voice. "Maybe nothing. Maybe something we don't even know about."

"Where will we go?"

"Does it matter?"

Harry looked at her then and shook his head.

"Not really."

"So long as I'm with you?" said Hermione, one eyebrow arched.

A smile answered her and she closed her eyes as a rough palm cupped her cheek, the feather light touch of claws grazing her scalp as fingers entwined in her hair.

"So long as you're with me," breathed Harry, eyes bright on her face.

Hermione opened her eyes then and stared into his. And she knew then that though their path was going to be rough and filled with danger and blood, they would make it.

They would survive.


	11. flight, part 2

**Chapter 11: Flight, Part 2**

Hermione looked down at her watch for a fifth time in half an hour and Harry gently caught her wrist in his clawed hand. When she whirled towards him, he whispered, "He'll be here."

She frowned at that and said, "It's weird for you to have faith in him. What with…"

"How we acted around each other. And how I thought he'd killed the old man."

"Yes."

Harry sighed, saying, "I can't bring myself to care about our petty squabbles now. My problems…_our_ problems…are far greater than that. And he never killed the old man."

He then bared his fangs as he added, "I've got someone else to hate now."

The young woman looked sad at that and gripped his hand, causing him to smile tightly at her.

"I'm not about to go after him. You know that."

"I know. But hearing you talk about him…there's just so much hate in your voice that it scares me."

Harry frowned and said softly, "It's the same for me when _you_ talk about him, Hermee."

"That's still a horrible nickname," she stated with a grimace.

"Oh, you know you like it," he joked back, tapping her chin with his knuckles.

She shook her head at him then jumped up from her seat on her packed trunk at the flicker of a light within the trees of the Forbidden Forest. "That's his signal!" she exclaimed, hurriedly shrinking her trunk down and tucking it into her pocket.

"Hmm," said Harry, looking around. His wolf-like ears flicked to and fro then laid back flat against his head as he let loose a low growl. "The old man's on the grounds."

Hermione hissed and peered over the brick wall that ran around the outside of tower they were in. And sure enough, standing far below them in bright green robes in the snow, was Dumbledore. McGonagall was right beside him and she turned her head slightly to spare them a glance. Harry focused on her and saw her hat dip in a brief nod before she turned back towards the old wizard.

"She gave us the nod," he said, clambering up onto the wall. "C'mon."

With a nod, she climbed up beside him, angling herself to she was sitting with her legs dangling over the outside part of the wall. Harry moved carefully around behind her and pulled her close to his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. His breath tickled her ear as he pressed his head against hers.

"Ready?"

"Just a minute," she replied, carefully pulling out her wand. He stiffened behind her and she felt a shudder run through his body but he didn't move away as she gave it a wave. Charm done, she tucked it away and nodded. "Okay."

Harry frowned and lifted her slightly, asking, "Feather light charm?"

"I thought it would help."

"It will. Now hold on."

Clamping her arms over his, she tilted her head back as he flared his wings above them. Moonlight gleamed off the feathers for a moment then they were falling and she barely held back a shriek. Harry's arms tightened about her and she just barely heard him breath, "I'll _never_ drop you."

Those words reassured her a little but she still preferred to have the ground directly under her feet rather than far away.

Harry flapped his wings once, fighting to keep high enough that Dumbledore wouldn't see them until it was too late for him to do anything. He grunted at the strain along his back that that one motion caused and knew he still had far to go before he was doing any real flying.

There was a quick flicker of two lights within the trees and Hermione hissed, "We've been spotted!"

"_Damn_," snarled Harry. He quickly judged the distance between where they were and the ground that was safe, saying, "We're going to have to dive to make it in time."

"_DIVE!_"

"Dive."

Hermione's grip tightened on her arms and she swallowed hard before saying, "Go!"

Dark feathered wings slowly tucked together and they picked up speed, gliding downward at a much sharper angle. Harry's skin began to tingle as magic swarmed into the air about them and he spared a glance back over his shoulder.

Dumbledore had his wand in the air and was mouthing words quickly, obviously trying to get the stronger wards before they could get out. Behind him, McGonagall had her own wand in the air, doing everything she could to slow him without him knowing just as she'd told Madam Pomfrey she would.

Turning his head back around, he folded his wings more, causing the two of them to pick up even more speed. Hermione did shriek now, her fingernails digging into the flesh of his arm but he could ignore the pain screaming from his nerves. Next to the pains of the transformation he'd gone through and the pain of the spells during the years before that, it was nothing.

The magic in the air lessened then swelled in such sudden intensity that he cried out himself, all of his senses abruptly overrun by the entirety of it. Most of it had a feeling that he recognized well – after everything Dumbledore had put him through, he could have caught his magical signature from miles away. Underneath it all was another signature, one that was much cleaner that the other. Obviously McGonagall's.

Hacking, he finally tucked his wings closed and allowed their forward momentum to continue to propel them out of the wards. He felt them snap up just as his foot passed through and then there was pain as he hit the ground on his back, having rolled so he was on the bottom and Hermione on top.

They skidded along the ground until they slid sideways into a tree, which showered wet snow down onto them. Moments later they were staggering to their feet and off into the woods in the direction they'd seen the lights at, which was where Snape was supposed to be.

"Quickly!" he called as he saw them, flipping his own cloak around a shivering Hermione's shoulders. "We have to run."

"No portkey?" asked Harry as he slid his hand about Hermione's.

"I have much better," replied Snape with a small smirk. "But we _must_ hurry!"

Hermione nodded and they were off, sloughing through the snowdrifts and continually listening for the sound of someone following them. When Harry saw Hagrid's hut flash through the trees, he asked, "Where _are_ we going!"

"There are several well-trained rideable creatures on these grounds, Potter," replied Snape. "You've made use of them before if I don't recall correctly."

"Thestrals?" gasped Hermione before they slid to a wet halt in a small clearing. A dark, draconic head reared up at their entrance then snorted and turned back to poking into the snow in search of grass.

Snape gave a smile that was more smirk than anything and said, "Indeed. Now quickly! Grab one and hop up. Albus is no doubt right behind us!"

Harry drove forward through the snow at that, dragging Hermione with him towards the Thestrals. One of the beasts sniffed at him then made a noise that seemed to be part growl and part neigh. It thrust its head under his free hand and he grinned before releasing Hermione's hand and clambering onto it. He then reached down to her and said, "C'mon."

Hermione bit her lip then grasped his hand, climbing up onto the Thestral's back behind him with his help. As she slid her arms about his waist, his wings between her and his back, Dumbledore burst into the clearing with McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey right behind him.

Harry snarled, eyes flashing, and underneath him the Thestral reared, reacting instinctively to the anger laid deep into the sound. The young man gripped at the creature's neck then pressed his knees into its shoulder, causing it to come down on all four hooves again.

"Go, go, _go!_" shouted Snape as he ploughed past, heels dug into his mounts sides.

Dumbledore shouted something and Harry let loose a howl full of rage that sent the Thestral charging forward towards him. It came up short before it struck the old wizard full on and spun to the right, kicking up a cloud of snow as Harry turned it with his knee, sending it plunging into the woods after Snape. A spell winged after them and clipped a tree as they passed it, turning part of it into a smoldering husk.

Hermione turned slightly, drawing her wand in a fit of anger, and sent a barrage of spells back towards Dumbledore. He batted them aside easily but that left them the opening they needed and they were gone, running the two Thestral's deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

As she spun back around, she took a deep breath and released it in a short bark of laughter. Collapsing against Harry's back with her cheek resting against the soft feathers of his wings, she murmured, "We're free. Oh thank God, we're free."

She felt Harry's hand clutch at hers then she completely lost it. Since they'd found Harry and she'd gotten him back, every step of the way she'd been trying to be strong. She hadn't really let herself cry any of the times that she had wanted to.

Now all those tears came in a torrent and Hermione cried into the dark glossy wings, staining the feathers with her tears. And all the while Harry clutched at her hand, keeping her anchored through her tears, until she finally ran out and fell asleep against his back.


End file.
